


The Years Before The Trials

by parchmentandpencils



Category: Nevermoor Series - Jessica Townsend
Genre: Gen, Hurt, im listening to a sad song what did you expect, im not sorry, im only sorry for mog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:49:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26234437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parchmentandpencils/pseuds/parchmentandpencils
Summary: Mog's childhood. It's gonna be s a d...
Comments: 30
Kudos: 34





	1. The Years of Dependency

**0 years, 1 day**

Corvus Crow was in shock. Although he would never admit it, he _had_ loved his wife, enough to have the little human wrapped up in a shawl in the next room. He felt a scowl work its way across his face as he thought of his...daughter. No matter what the doctors said, it was all her fault. Her fault he didn't have Odelle, her fault she didn't have a mother.

As if on cue, little Morrigan began to cry. He strode to the room her bassinet was in, watching her face screw up in discomfort--soiled nappy, no doubt--and he didn't make a move towards her. He turned to the door and snapped his fingers, hearing the maid-turned-nanny rush up the stairs into the bedroom. Standing there impassively, he saw Morrigan turn her head towards him and look at him with blurry eyes. He caught her eyes for a second, her face reminding him of her mothers'. He tore his eyes away from his daughter and left. 

He stood near the Town Hall and gazed at the Morningtide clock face. Yesterday was Eventide. He thought back to Morrigan, staring at him completely innocently from the maid's arms. She didn't know what she'd done wrong...but she was a murderer. Murderer since she was born. He allowed his thoughts to drift into the legends of the Cursed Children.

> Cursed Children, or less known as Eventide-born, are said to have bad fortune following them. Everywhere they go, they are said to bring bad luck, chaos and destruction along with them.

And didn't _that_ fit? She'd left Odelle dead, the first sign of the Curse. He'd never placed much stock into it, preferring to stay out of it, as, as he'd always said to his friends, "No child of mine will be Eventide-born. They won't be _cursed_." Yet here he was. Stuck with her. He was the ultimate hypocrite. 

Parents were meant to love their children unconditionally. Yet here he was, unable to love his daughter because of what happened right after she was born. _What kind of a parent am I?_ He wondered, kicking up a small patch of stones. He sighed deeply, wrapping his arms around himself. He remembered Morrigan's mother, _no, not her mother, no one can be a murderer's mother_ , naming Morrigan and wrapping her up in the pink blanket they'd bought when she was six months pregnant. She'd hummed to her baby, fed her, and rocked her to sleep. He remembered what she'd said to him then.

"Don't hate Morrigan, Corvus, for the day she was born on. Love her like any father should. Support her unconditionally. She'll need it. I can tell. Our daughter will be special."

She'd handed Morrigan to Corvus and drifted off to sleep, leaving him to take her to the hospital's nursery. The next day they found Odelle dead.

Corvus keened quietly in his throat, unable to repress a single tear that slid down his cheek. He returned home and didn't look at his daughter, going to his office and drinking himself into oblivion.

_I'm sorry, love. I can't keep your promise. I have to forget you, or the guilt will overpower me._

* * *

**1 year, 9 months**

The next year had Morrigan grow up under the stern eye of her nanny. They looked nothing alike, Morrigan with her black hair, pale complexion, and baby fast that would later give way for a pointed chin and slightly hollowed cheeks, emphasising her cheekbones; and the nanny with her dark brown hair, slightly tanned skin, and stretched skin over her bones. When Morrigan pointed it out with her baby garble, the nanny had told her, in no certain fact, that they weren't related, and she wouldn't want to be related to a _murderer_. That was the first time she'd heard it, even though she didn't know what the word meant. 

The nanny hadn't been the best guardian in the last year, clearly liking her mother and father better and had been brainwashed by Corvus' muttered comments. She fed and changed Morrigan, but did not heed the baby's cries, leaving them to become quieter and quieter as she had been given toys to play with by herself. The toy Xylophone had been taken away and now she only played with the stuffed teddies. She still cried once in a while, but now had given up. 

It's amazing what indoctrination does. The first time Morrigan crawled up to her father and begged to be held, garbling "Dada how'", he'd ignored her, getting up and walking away, leaving her to start crying, screaming "DADA!" after him. He'd hardened his heart against the innocent little girl and walked away, feeling his wife's last wishes nag at the back of his head. Even at that small age, she looked remarkably like her mother, which made him want to weep. When he got to his office, he threw a glass vase against the wall and watched it shatter into a thousand pieces. Morrigan had tried twice more, only to get rebuffed both times. She stopped calling his name, something Corvus thought was a punishment from the heavens, but also tore him up inside. 

* * *

**3 years, 5 months**

The first time Morrigan hurt herself really badly was when the nanny had left. She claimed she left because of a family emergency, but it was because she couldn't stand being near Morrigan anymore. Morrigan had heard the word murderer being thrown at her a lot, and she still didn't know what it meant. She would find out later. The nanny had stormed out after packing her bags, and Morrigan had run out after her on small, unsteady legs. Her hair had grown to the middle of her back and her laces of her shoes were untied. Morrigan had tripped over them and was now lying in the middle of the road. She was crying quietly and hadn't noticed the carriage pulled by Magnificats, who had been spooked over something and were now travelling very quickly.

She didn't notice it until the wheels had run over her, bruising her and whacking her into the road, where she hit her head on the pavement and blacked out. 

Ornella found out first and scooped her granddaughter up, running into the house to find Corvus. She'd arrived a few days ago, and didn't know what to think. She reached Corvus, and the sheer terror on his face was quickly replaced by blankness. Her Curse had stretched to ruining the harvest, poisoning the kitchen cat, and giving the other servants food poisoning.

"Take her to the hospital," he said dismissively, turning towards the window.

"Corvus?!" Ornella said, shocked. "Your _daughter_ is hurt!"

Morrigan stirred just as her father said, "She's no daughter of mine."

Ornella looked sorrowfully at her granddaughter, who was crying quietly. The words would haunt Morrigan for years to come, when she finally knew what they meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there you have it! The first chapter of the most heartbreaking book I've written.
> 
> So it turns out I wrote Mog being hit by a carriage at the same age I got hit by a car. Whoops.  
> I'm also going with her mother being called Odelle because they tend to have middle names being the parent's name in books.  
> Lastly, Corvus is still a bastard. I still hate him. I just refuse to believe he hated Mog since the day she was born. Fathers are meant to initially love their kids.


	2. Did Anybody Care?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next few years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back for another instalment of angst.com
> 
> See the end notes for a poem-

**5 years, 11 months**

Morrigan was almost six when she saw her mother’s picture for the first time. She had been creeping around the manor unattended, because nobody was keeping an eye on her anymore. Even her grandmother was getting a little more distant. She passed Ornella’s room and looked at it longingly.

Inside, Ornella looked at her granddaughter and then at the note she had, clutched in her hands.

_”People like the Eventide born are the first to get seriously hurt. Stay away from your granddaughter or she’ll get what’s coming to her.”_

She stared at her granddaughter at a distance, turning away to the darkened room and replacing the note into the drawer. She still cared for Morrigan, she just prayed she’d forgive her.

Meanwhile, Morrigan had found a hallway she hadn’t really known about. She ran her hands along the walls, causing a lamp to fall, and biting her tongue as it clanged onto the floor loudly. Fast footsteps sounded nearby and she squeezed into a room, holding her breath. A minute later, Corvus came into view. Morrigan knew the instant it was him because she’d learned to memorise all the family’s footsteps, and there were deep, deliberate footsteps when he was in the hall. 

“WHO’S THERE?” He shouted, hoping to intimidate them. As usual, he didn’t consider the fact that it was Morrigan, if only for the fact that they only saw each other once a year, max.

Morrigan backed into the nearest wall, feeling her back hit a frame. She spun around and tried to stop it from falling off the wall, only to start in surprise and back away in slight fear. The frame had an oil painting of someone who looked awfully familiar. The light caught the picture frame and Morrigan saw her reflection. 

_We...we look the same. Our cheeks, our noses..._

Morrigan touched her face with one hand and reached out with the other to touch the oil canvas gently. She jumped as her finger came to rest upon something made of fabric and not a mirror as she feared.

 _And that means..._ “Mum?” Her voice came out small and toddler like. 

In that instant, she began to cry. She stuffed a fist in her mouth and started to sob, heart wrenching sobs that portrayed the small child she was. She cried for what seemed like forever, hiccuping while she removed her fist and stuck her thumb into her mouth, taking comfort from something small, like she probably would have as a baby. She wiped her nose and eyes on her sleeve, not caring. 

“Mum....” she whined. “Why aren’t you here, Mummy?” She hiccupped, curling up and remaining there. After all, no one would miss her for a night.

* * *

**6 years, 3 months**

Morrigan was six when she mustered up the courage to make Corvus a birthday card. She had begun to gather up supplies from different bedrooms from the manor, including one daring jaunt where she went into Corvus’ bedroom to get an old shirt that she could cut up. She was sitting cross legged in her small box bedroom (Corvus had refused to give her a proper room), where bunting was hung on the walls and paper cranes hung from the ceiling. She had squeezed past her wardrobe and was now sitting on her bed. Spreading the supplies out, she got to work.

The next day was Corvus’ birthday. She slipped the card into his office and was now sitting on her bed, rhythmically kicking the wall. From below, she heard a bellow and her feet stilled immediately. 

“WHERE IS THAT LITTLE THIEF?” 

She heard light footsteps and a knock on her door. “Ma’am?” One of the maids said, trembling slightly when Morrigan looked at her. “Master Crow wants to speak with you.”

She pattered downstairs, feeling slightly nervous, and poked her head into her father’s room. He was trembling with rage.

”Father?”

He held up the card. “Where did you get the materials for this?” He asked in a low, dangerous voice.

”A-around the house,” she replied, shaking. Maybe it was a mistake.

”Who is this for?”

”Y-you.”

He took two long steps towards her and grabbed her arm. Hauling her towards the fireplace, he shouted in her face.

”I AM NOT YOUR FATHER! THIS IS WHAT I THINK OF YOUR CARD!” He lit the fireplace and threw the card in, watching as it began to smoke and curl. “DON’T EVER GIVE ME ANYTHING. We will treat each other as acquaintances, nothing more.” His voice became normal volume and he thrust Morrigan away from him like a bug.

She fell to the floor and watched as the flames took the card as their own, the reflection of the flames flickering over her face as she struggled not to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She wept, she cried, she lost all hope  
> No expectations of kindness  
> No consolation of her feelings  
> So they tore her up inside  
> And the monster that dwelled  
> So deep within  
> Roared with righteous fury  
> But couldn’t help it  
> If everything played out as planned  
> They’d all be at their feet  
> Bowing, worshipping
> 
> There’s no good or evil  
> They’re walking the truly grey  
> Waiting for the day  
> When they can be free.  
> Free from the oppressive silence that encompassed them  
> And left them alone  
> Alone.  
> The echoes in their ears reminded them that  
> Nobody ever loved them  
> And nobody ever would.


	3. Visits, Developments and Independency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mog begins to see the world in shades of grey.  
> This chapter is more....canon. I think.

**7 years, 11 months**

Morrigan was seven before she worked up the courage to ask Corvus for a surprise. It was her birthday a few days later and she was excited about it. Being eight seemed like a major leap and so she was strangely hopeful that she would receive something. Deep down, she knew that nothing would ever come out of her birthdays, but she didn’t allow her hope to wane, thinking that _something_ could come out of this. Potentially. Maybe? Even as Corvus and Grandma avoided her, and the servants were afraid to clean her room seeing as things might be cursed by her, she didn’t allow that tiny blossom of hope to disintegrate. 

_Maybe, just maybe, he’ll start to love me..._

The tension and hope were present in equal amounts, but the mantra repeated itself in her head over and over, and she allowed herself to relax minutely. This was, however, thrown out of the window as a knock on the door sounded. The returned tension made her shoulders ache as she trudged over to the door, opening it. Of course, there were no people at the door, just a silver platter with a small piece of parchment placed on it, written in elegant scrawl.

”You are asked to accompany your father to the Town Hall. His popularity is at a low and you are requested to be there to give him moral support.”

The words moral support were written with an ink blot right before, suggesting that the writer of the note was unsure whether to add them to the note. Morrigan read over the note again and sat back on her haunches, snorting lightly. If that wasn’t a subtle command, she didn’t know what was. Nevertheless, she retreated inside her room to get ready.

The event itself was long and boring. She’d thought the town hall would be interesting to be in, to look at, with how Corvus (she refused to call him Dad, now) kept boasting about the “splendour” and the “luxury”. However, it was hot, stuffy, and unremarkable. If she moved, she would get a sharp squeeze of the shoulder (not unlike the chapel in Hetty Feather, she thought). It was enough to deter her. Her eyes had glazed over as she started reciting one of her favourite books in her head. Before long, it had been time to leave, and she made her way home with the “family” eagerly. Anywhere was better than that place.

Before she went to her room, however, Corvus stopped her and told her that her surprise would be on her bed in the morning. Now, looking at the list of things that had gone wrong, because of her, her anger turned red-hot and some angry tears spilled out of her eyes. 

_Someday, I will ruin you, Corvus Crow.  
_

It was the first and last violent thought that had entered her mind at Crow Manor.

* * *

**8 years, 7 months**

When Morrigan was eight, Corvus brought home a bride. She was exotic and tanned, unlike the rest of the Crows, who had black hair and a pasty complexion that looked almost sickly. He adored her and she adored him, but Morrigan found herself becoming bitter. How could he just replace her mother like that? She knew by now that Corvus did not love her, he never would, but she knew he loved her mother once upon a time. Even if they _had_ moved her portrait, she knew he had loved her, right? She was almost certain of that. Thinking of Ivy made her feel everything she'd bottled up since she was seven. She felt rage course through her before it was released in a wave of....something. Later, she would find out that she'd set the kitchens on fire.

Ivy, straight off, started mothering Morrigan. While Morrigan was grateful for it, and the anger in her diminished a little, she'd never had a mother before, and _who was she to make Morrigan stop feeling such animosity?_ However, she grew to like Ivy more and more, until all of a sudden she withdrew her presence like a cold draught in a heated room. It was abrupt, but it was to be expected, and the sour feeling in Morrigan's chest became ever more pronounced. 

_After all,_ Morrigan thought, _Corvus has free reign over everyone in my life. Why would anyone like_ me _?_

Morrigan cried herself to sleep that night.

* * *

**9 years, 9 months**

Ivy was still keeping her distance from Morrigan, but Morrigan caught her studying her hair a few times. Smoothing her hair down nervously, she knocked on the door of Ivy and Corvus' bedroom where Ivy had summoned her that morning. At the brisk call of “Come In!” she entered and caught Ivy’s eye. 

”Ah, Morrigan!” she exclaimed as if she hadn’t just spent half of the time she was at Morrigan’s house (she would not call it home until things changed) ignoring her only stepchild.

Morrigan took half a step back unconsciously. “Yes?” she said, keeping the doorway in the corner of her eye.

”I’ve decided that this house needs changing, starting with its occupants. You’ve already seen Corvy wearing that amazing light blue suit, it goes with his eyes,” she sighed dreamily. Morrigan wanted to laugh. She’d seen “Corvy” looking at the suit like he’d want nothing better than to set it on fire and throw the ashes into the lake. “So now it’s your turn!”

”What will you have me do?” Morrigan murmured. 

”Get you a haircut!” Ivy beamed.

Ivy lunged forward and grabbed Morrigan’s arm before she could react, linking it with hers and pretending not to notice Morrigan’s look of horror. “I like my hair as it is!” She protested weakly, unheard under her stepmother’s exclamation of “It’ll be our bonding time!”

A disastrous trip to the hairdressers saw Morrigan fashioned with a “stylish” pixie cut, which she absolutely abhorred. The hairdresser herself thought Morrigan looked like an “absolute darling”, said with delight in her voice as if she was Morrigan’s blessing above all mankind. So she thanked the hairdresser and let Ivy pay, already plotting her revenge. She felt bad until Ivy promptly forgot about her the next day again. Morrigan tried to stop herself from feeling like she’d done something drastic and focused on her revenge.

* * *

**10 years, 0 months**

Ivy insisted on throwing Corvus a business party two weeks after Morrigan’s birthday. She’d bought a gorgeous dress (in Ivy’s opinion, anyway. Morrigan thought it showed too much skin) and hung it outside their cupboard two days in advance so she could admire it. Morrigan didn’t mind. She’d have the dress after the party. She tried not to let herself cackle in glee right there. Two seconds later, she changed her mind and a cackle of glee could be heard from Morrigan’s room.

The party went by without a glitch. Morrigan snuck into Ivy and Corvus’ room the next day and took the “dress”. She sat on the floor with her scissors, listened out for Ivy chatting to Corvus animatedly, and began. She cut the seams and watched as it became nothing more than a few scraps of material. Morrigan looked into the mirror and shuddered. Shoving the fabric under her bed, she fell asleep, setting her alarm for 7am the next day.

At 7am the next day, Morrigan’s brain cleared from sleep as the alarm chimed and she sat up, excited about her revenge. Grabbing the fabric, she snuck down to the drawing room and began hanging up the dress pieces as curtains. It was hard as it kept slipping, but she used pegs to fasten the sides together and ignored the mass of pegs sticking out of the “curtains”. It couldn’t be helped, though. Twenty minutes later, she finished and lay down for just a second to sleep, revenge complete...

She was rudely awakened by an angered stepmother. Physically shaking in rage, Ivy managed to talk to Morrigan.

”Did you do this?” Ivy asked angrily.

Standing up defiantly, Morrigan nodded, “What will you even do to me? Will you hit me?”

Ivy looked as if she wanted to do just that, but then managed to realise it was what Morrigan wanted. She grabbed Morrigan’s pixie bob and pulled her closer so she could talk, specks of spit coming out of her mouth as she gnashed her teeth and spoke at such a close range. “I wish Corvus had never been burdened with you,” she spat coldly. “You’re a cruel menace who’s just a curse. You aren’t good for _anything_ except ruining people’s lives. I wish you weren’t here, you curse.”

Morrigan wrenched herself backwards, pushing Ivy, and ran. She’d never run so fast in her life. She didn’t care where she went, she just carried on until she collapsed onto the pavement with a shaky breath, chest heaving up and down with the exertion and the shock of what had just happened. Thinking back, Ivy’s words rung in her mind like a tolling bell in a church.

 _I’m not a burden, or a curse, or cruel, or a menace,_ she told herself firmly, over and over. However, deep down she couldn’t help but feel that Ivy was right. They were all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you really think I’d not leave you with that last line? I’m evil ;)


	4. Death and Curses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thoughts after Morrigan’s “death”. This chapter will skip POVs a lot. There won’t be Morrigan’s POV since it is in the book itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the dates in the last chapter by a year. This will be the last chapter of this fic, and then I’ll be starting a companion piece (since I like making many series) detailing the bits I missed that are canon, just because I want to. Enjoy!

**11 years, 0 days**

* * *

_Corvus_

Corvus did not know what to think. It was Morrigan’s eleventh birthday and rightfully, he knew they should be celebrating her birthday and ignoring the slight sense of doom that came with the date. However, it was on this date that Morrigan’s mother was predestined to start to die. He’d been feeling overwhelmed all day, taking out the only photo he had of his daughter and first wife. Oh, he had candid shots that Morrigan didn’t know he’d taken, but he had no idea of the way Cursed Children died. 

Would there be a body?

Would her ashes fly away and there would be nothing there?

Corvus drew the curtains of his bedroom and sat there with a single candle, reminiscing.

* * *

_Ivy_

Ivy touched her flat stomach with a small smile making its way across her face. She stared into the mirror and fancied she saw the “glow” that most pregnant women would have. She couldn’t wait to tell the family...

Her mood took a downward turn as she thought of Morrigan. She hadn’t wanted to interact with her stepdaughter as she believed she could ruin her chances of a happy future. She’d tried, once or twice, but since the curtain fiasco last year, she’d loathed Morrigan with a passion. She scowled as she thought of Morrigan, but she smiled once more as she knew that after today, she wouldn’t be darkening their doorstep any longer. She thought of the baby and then her thoughts drifted to Corvus. He would be ecstatic.

* * *

_Grandmother_

It was today. Morrigan would be dying. Grandmother deeply cared about Morrigan, which was overshadowed with the concern of how Corvus would treat Morrigan if he found out that she was visiting Morrigan and raising her right. So she’d kept her distance. Knowing that Eventide was today instead of in a year was like a punch in the gut. A sudden thump made her head snap towards the door, where an envelope was edging its way under. Ornella slowly made her way towards the door—she’d been doing everything slowly—and picked up what she now knew was a contract. Looking over it, she smiled. Jupiter would take care of Morrigan when she couldn’t.

* * *

_Corvus_

It was nine o’ clock in the evening. Three hours. Three hours until Morrigan died. He gave a mix between a laugh and a growl, then blurted out an expletive in Grommish. He schooled his face and then went down for the roast dinner, pulling a small face at the amount of parsnips put on his plate.

He wasn’t thinking straight. He just wanted to be back in the darkness and privacy of his and Ivy’s room, so much so that he blurted out the first thing in his mind when the Ginger Man arrived. Having the same man get angry (Juniper, Corvus thought he said his name was) sent a thrill of fear through him. The ceiling shook and Corvus glimpsed a flash of red eyes, only for it to be replaced by utter horror as Morrigan lay dead in front of them. In a dim corner of his suddenly heavy mind, there was a small whispering voice telling him to snap out of it, but he ignored it. He stumbled beside the body and dropped to his knees. He couldn’t see Morrigan any more, not with her face as similar to her mother’s.

”Odelle,” he cried, imagining it was her and not his daughter. “I’m so _sorry_ I couldn’t fulfil my promise, I love you, I _love_ you, please don’t leave me...” He pulled Morrigan’s head into his lap and continued to mumble that he was sorry, he was so sorry, he loved her so much...

It was good that everyone’s minds were full of fog, otherwise Ivy would have left for a while. When the funeral was done, Corvus would warn everyone against saying Morrigan’s name ever again.

To Corvus, she’d become a curse never to be mentioned ever again.

* * *

_Ivy_

Corvus was yelling for someone, O _fell?_ Ivy didn’t know, but she focused on her stepdaughter on the floor. Feeling empty, she turned away, not knowing how this would affect Morrigan’s visit later...

Maybe she would have had one last chance for redemption had she stayed to mourn Morrigan.

* * *

_Grandmother_

Ornella fought through the fog and hoped Jupiter would take care of Morrigan. Otherwise she’d travel through the gossamer and be face to face with Jupiter. One of them would be standing at the end, and it wouldn’t be the one with the “ _W_ ” pin attached to their lapel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. That’s it for this fic, and I’ll be starting the companion piece soon. :D


End file.
